


Making The Best Of A Creepy Situation

by Deans_Fetish



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU wincest, Funeral Home Sex, M/M, Sibling Incest, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-19
Updated: 2009-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-07 07:42:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8789425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deans_Fetish/pseuds/Deans_Fetish
Summary: Dean and Sam make the best of a creepy situation...just like the title suggests.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I told serendip50 that I was going to write a fic based on the spoiler pic (Season 4) I posted earlier, so here it is.

The funeral home smelled of too much air freshener and the distinct odors of formaldehyde and death.  
It wasn't a pretty place to be, even with the expensively tiled floors and the Persian runners. The mahogany walls and the brass candelabras. It was made to look nice, but it wasn't nice. It was a funeral home. A place where the dead were stored until they were either stuffed into the ground or burned until there was nothing left but ash. 

Yet here Sam and I were, walking through the place like it was a fucking Walmart.  
Sam had gotten it into his head that we needed to come by and visit an old friend. Why the hell Sarah Blake now worked in a funeral home and not an art museum, or hell, as a hunter for that matter, was beyond me. 

I didn't have a problem going to see her, I had a problem going to see her in a funeral home. Talk about giving a person the creeps. It wasn't like we were working a case or anything. No, we were just there to chit-chat... IN A FUNERAL HOME!  
The more I thought about it, the more tense I became, until Sam looked down at my hand he was holding, and then at me, like I was the crazy one.

"You okay, Dean?" he asked me, all innocent and sweet.

As I glared over at him, I could tell by the look in his slightly slanted hazel's that he didn't have a clue what was wrong with me.  
I dunno if that made me feel better or worse, but finally, Sarah walked up to us, a ready smile on her face. I didn't miss the way her eyes dropped from our faces to look at our joined hands, before she looked back up at us again. I also didn't miss the hint of regret within their dark emerald depths. Yeah, sister, that's right. Back off, he's mine now.

Oh what? Like you wouldn't think the same? 

We chatted for a while as we stood there, in the center of Twilight Zone Central, but our surroundings kept drawing my attention away from the conversation so I'm not even real sure what the hell we talked about. I just remember smiling tightly and nodding a lot. I heard a phone ring somewhere off in the background suddenly and that's when things went from bad to worse. Sarah held up her hand as she listened to the phone, to it get answered, I can only guess by an answering machine. That or her co-workers really lack personality.

She smiled at the two of us, and she had this look like she didn't want to tell us something, or was suddenly nervous. Part of me was glad of that because it was about damn time someone else was uncomfortable around here besides me.  
"I need to get that call. If you two want to," she started walking away and before I knew what was happening, we were following her. What the hell, Sam?

I was frowning over at him, if he bothered to look... which he didn't. The bitch.

She was turning to face us walking back ward then, "wait in here," she held out her arm toward a couple chairs against the wall of a room full of empty coffins. "It's quiet and you won't be disturbed. I'll hurry back as soon as I can," she told us and then she was gone and Sam was walking, pulling me toward the chairs.

"Dude! No!" I hissed at him, my eyes darting around the room, "we are not waiting in here." 

Sam actually looked at me like he couldn't for the world figure out why I said that.

"Dude! Coffins!" he hissed at him, gesturing with my free hand.

Sam chuckled as he looked around the room, then his champagne hazel gaze was locked on me again as he shrugged, "So? We deal with coffins and dead bodies all the time, Dean. What's the big deal?"

I frowned harder at him. "It's just different. Those are cases. Things we need to solve, kill. These are...people. Dead people. Normal people."

He chuckled again and stepped up to me, leaning in to press his lips against mine, his tongue teasing open my mouth, his tongue slipping inside to tangle with my own. A low moan tore from deep in my throat and that was the moment I knew I had lost this fight. Fucker fought dirty. It wasn't long before we were hot and heavy against the wall between two coffins, our hands groping one another, each pulling the other closer, our groins rubbing together through our jeans. My hands had worked their way between us and I was currently unfastening Sam's jeans as quickly as I could. And thinking that I was going to replace all the buttons and zippers on his jeans with Velcro from now on.

I finally managed to get them open, but I'm pretty sure I broke the zipper and that my ass has Sam hand print bruises on it, but who the fuck cares, right? I slip a hand down the front of his jeans, under his boxers taking his hard length in my hand, and the sound that breaks from his lips is my undoing. Such a raw throaty moan, that I'm about to just throw his ass down on the high polished floor and slam into him without thought. But, apparently, that's when Sam starts thinking. Sonofa....

He actually takes a step back, causing my hand to not only release my grip on his cock, but to pull half out of his boxers. Okay, someone better be dying, cause at this point, that was not a cool move, nor one that I expected.

Our breaths are panting out from between slightly parted lips as we gaze at one another, chests rising and falling with each breath. His eyes are passion glazed as I watch his lips slowly curl up into a grin. His eyes dart away from me, then back to me, and away again. Finally I understand what he'd doing, what he wants me to do, so when he looks away again, my eye follow his gaze to one of the empty caskets. It's large, silver metal, lined with white satin, including the small pillow inside.

The thought runs through my mind really fast that I doubt the person who will be in that thing will really care that it has a pillow, but then the thought is gone as I see Sam look back at me again from the corner of my eye. "You wanna?" he asks me, his voice husky and raw, so damn seductive he could make the pope look twice. I stare at him, blinking, unsure of what the hell he's talking about for like... well, probably a hell of a lot longer then I should have, but then it hits me, what he means. He seems to know the second that it does too, because he's walking over to it, and shoving his jeans past his hips, and toeing off his boots. My eyes widen as I draw in a breath. Damn, Sammy. Who'd of thought you were this damn kinky? My eyes are glued to each expanse of flesh that is revealed to me as he undresses and I'm all but ripping my clothes off my body as I walk over to him.

Oh hell yeah....

And then, Sam's climbing into the coffin, laying on his stomach, his head turned as he grins at me. Our clothes are scattered all over the floor, our boots just haphazardly taken off and kicked out of the way. God, if Sarah comes back now, she's certainly going to get an eyeful. Not that I give a rats ass and Sam doesn't seem to be caring either, so we're good.

I climb into the coffin with Sam, my front against his back, naked skin to naked skin. A low moan escapes us both, as he turns his head to look over his shoulder at me and I lean my head down slightly more, slanting my mouth over his and start thrusting my tongue in and out of his mouth, pull his tongue into my mouth and suck it, until I can feel him grinding himself against the white satin under us. Holy fuck, Sammy... his ass is moving against my shaft, my hands are running over him, touching anywhere I can, even as he reaches back and tries to hold onto my hips with his hands. 

"Dean...." he moans my name, as he tears his lips from mine, it's a whispered plea that goes straight to my dick, making it twitch against him.

I nod to him, not that he's looking, he's got his eyes closed, his lips are parted and red from our kissing. Holy shit he's hot as fuck....

"I gotcha, baby boy, I gotcha," I whisper back to him, as I slip and arm under his hips, making his ass rise slightly as I put two fingers of my other hand into my now empty mouth and get them spit slick before reaching down with them, slowly pushing them into Sam. I hear him hiss in a breath as my fingers breach his hole, slipping further inside. I work him slow until I'm finally finger fucking the hell out of his ass and he's thrusting back against my hand, groaning, small grunts leaving him.

I finally pull my fingers from his ass and line up my leaking cock with his hole. "Dean..." he says my name again and I peer around to look at his face as he looks back at me, it's then that I get what he's telling me and I grin back at him as I release my dick and reach up, pulling the coffin lid closed on first our legs, then as I line up again and thrust into him, I grab the other half of the lid, pulling it down too, cocooning us inside.

I start to move, my hand around his hips gripping his cock, stroking him in rhythm with the thrust of my hips into him and it's not long before we're both moaning, groaning, mewing, and gasping enough to make any porn star proud. I'm thrusting so hard that we can feel the coffin jerk and slide along with us, but neither of us really care, in fact, it's the last thing we're caring about at the moment. I can feel Sam withering under me, his fingers digging into my hip, his other hand is gripping the tiny pillow so hard that his knuckles are white, even in the dark of the coffin. I can feel my balls drawing up as I grit my teeth, my face is and has been tucked against Sam's shoulder and move it slightly now, press my lips against his sweat dampened skin.

A couple more thrusts, a couple more slides of my hand and we're both coming, a feminine half scream mingling with the sound of our voices as each others names fall from our lips. It isn't until were both spent and laying there, breathing heavily, still clinging together in the small enclosed space that is now so hot that were both covered in sweat, that it hits us that it was Sarah's voice and her half scream we heard. Slowly I reach up with one hand and shove back the upper coffin lid, cold air rushing in to cool our overheated skin as I lift my head and look up, my eyes meeting Sarah's wide dark emerald gaze as she stands staring at us, at the coffin that is about to topple over onto the floor.

I flash her one of my most charming grins, just as Sam lifts his head and looks her way too. "Uh, hey...we uh.... decided to make the best of the creepy situation." I shrug a shoulder, still grinning as I glance down at a very red faced Sam before looking back up at her, "You know, funeral homes." I make a show of shuddering and Sam squirms under me a small sound of protest escaping him, which between that and the look on Sarah's face as I'm trying to smooth things over and am apparently not, serve to only make me start to laugh.

Well, I guess Sarah won't be inviting us back anytime soon, but hey, that's okay by me, I can cross off another 'kinky sexing up Sam place' off the list in my head and that alone makes this all worth while.


End file.
